Повелитель мух

           What’sgrownupsgoin’tothink?YoungSimonwasmurdered.Andtherewasthatotherkidwhathadamarkonhisface.Who’sseenhimsincewefirstcomehere?"

           "Piggy!Stopaminute!"

           "Igottheconch.I’mgoingtothatJackMerridewan’tellhim,Iam."

           "You’llgethurt."

           "Whatcanhedomorethanhehas?I’lltellhimwhat’swhat.Youletmecarrytheconch,Ralph.I’llshowhimtheonethinghehasn’tgot."

           Piggypausedforamomentandpeeredroundatthedimfigures.Theshapeoftheoldassembly,troddeninthegrass,listenedtohim.

           "I’mgoingtohimwiththisconchinmyhands.I’mgoingtoholditout.Look,I’mgoin’tosay,you’restrongerthanIamandyouhaven’tgotasthma.Youcansee,I’mgoin’tosay,andwithbotheyes.ButIdon’taskformyglassesback,notasafavor.Idon’taskyoutobeasport,I’llsay,notbecauseyou’restrong,butbecausewhat’sright’sright.Givememyglasses,I’mgoingtosay—yougotto!"

           Piggyended,flushedandtrembling.HepushedtheconchquicklyintoRalph’shandsasthoughinahurrytoberidofitandwipedthetearsfromhiseyes.ThegreenlightwasgentleaboutthemandtheconchlayatRalph’sfeet,fragileandwhite.AsingledropofwaterthathadescapedPiggy’sfingersnowflashedonthedelicatecurvelikeastar.

           AtlastRalphsatupstraightanddrewbackhishair.